Johnlock Oneshots : Issues Of 2020
by LauraUriex
Summary: A Collection of Johnlock Oneshots regarding the issues of the year 2020. Includes themes like Coronavirus ("Sherlock Gets Coronavirus") and Climate change ("Summer in April")
1. Sherlock Gets Coronavirus

_**Disclaimer : This is a work of fanfiction regarding characters from Sherlock (BBC). I own nothing.**_

_**Drabble synopsis : In the middle of the semi-apocalyptic Coronavirus epidemic, Sherlock gets sick. It's up to John to deal with it. **_

John came home from the doctor's office at around 4pm, a bit earlier than usual, because Sherlock had made him rush to him for an emergency. Sure, Sherlock's emergencies were never really that urgent, but this time, it could have been about Rosie.

"What happened this time?" said John right after locking the door behind him. "Is Rosie ok?"

"Rosie is fine... But, for precaution, I'm not going to sit anywhere beside her." Said Sherlock, just before letting out a cough in his sleeve. He was lying on the sofa, his beard undone and his hair messy. Little Rosie was on the floor, playing with a stuffed animal and emitting content gurgles.

"What is the emergency then?" John asked in response, confused and curious at the same time. He picked Rosie up.

"I think I have Coronavirus." Sherlock said in all seriousness. "I heard there's a spread of it in UK and I'm sure I caught it from a dead body. I need you to care for me! And keep me away from Rosie because if I pass it to her she'll die."

John gave his roommate a weird look. Coronavirus? Sure, there were already 100 cases in the United Kingdom, but he hardly doubted that Sherlock had actually caught it. It was a rare virus, so it was unlikely.

"Really? You made me leave work because you suspect having Coronavirus?" The shorter man chuckled, unable to keep his seriousness.

"You think this is funny, John? I have a deadly virus, you could lose your most important person and you laugh about it?" Sherlock instantly sat up and shot his best friend a glare. "You, a doctor, should know how deadly this virus is."

"Of course, but I'm sure you don't have it, Sherlock!" John was now laughing out loud. "Just because you have light cough, it doesn't mean it's Coronavirus. I mean, you should have a high fever or something."

Sherlock glared at his friend once again.

"John. This is serious, your daughter is in danger. She's just two years old, she might get sick so I suggest you put her into Molly's care or something, while I quarantine myself here and you stay with me." he said, crossing his arms like a child would do. He then coughed again.

"Well, if you suspect having such virus, why don't you go get checked and, um, stay in isolation so Rosie and I don't run the risk of contagion?" John suggested, playing along a little. Reasoning with Sherlock, once he was convinced of something, was downright impossible.

"But, John, if I go out I will spread the illness to everyone around me. But I just so happen to have a doctor in the house who could treat me himself."

Sherlock replied.

John sighed in frustration, but he smiled nonetheless. "Will you go get tested if I come with you?" he asked.

"No, I already know I have it. Remember, I'm the master of deduction, my dear Watson." said Sherlock.

"Ok then if you truly have Coronavirus, you understand I can't stay within one metre of you and I can't let you near my daughter? So either I leave or you leave." John responded.

Sherlock frowned a little. "I say our little princess Rosie goes." he said.

John was starting to realise just where Sherlock was going, but he still didn't act like he had found him out.

"Ok. I'm sure Mrs Hudson will enjoy her company." said John. He then left with his daughter and came back minutes later, without her.

"Mrs Hudson will keep her as long as we need her to." he said upon returning. He knew that it wasn't going to be that long.

"Perfect." said the taller man, coughing. "Now, come here and care for me."

"Ok, first of all I'm going to check your temperature." the short man said. He left to go to the bathroom, open the cabinet and come back to the living room with a thermometer.

John's expression, as he put the thermometer onto Sherlock's armpit, was so serious and professional that the curly haired man couldn't help but squeal a little inside. He had never found the other man more attractive before.

Sure, his love for him was unmistakable and clearly there but he had never admitted it to him.

He knew he loved him platonically, so he had no idea that all those gazes he'd give him were filled with lingering, romantic thoughts. He preferred to appear as the emotionless Sherlock that John was used to.

"It's a bit cold. Ok, now while I sit here with this device on my underarm, why don't you," cough, "make me something, like a tea, to fight off the virus?"

Damn Sherlock, he was just so cute like that. John preferred him with his beard undone and his hair unkempt, it made him look softer. Not that stiff or cold anymore, just human.

John would often catch himself wondering why he'd chosen to put up with such an individual in his life.

Sherlock was insufferable, his behaviour was childish and psychotic, most of the time, yet... He loved that fool more than his own life.

Sherlock was, in a way, his soulmate, even more than Mary had ever been.

There was just something he had never admitted to him... That he was willing to have a relationship with him that wasn't just platonic. He would often wonder what his lips would feel like under his own...

"Watson, are you alive? Where's my tea?" Sherlock asked, impatient, coughing once again.

Not two minutes later, John was putting the cup of tea in Sherlock's hands.

"Now, after you drink from this cup, I guess we'll have to throw it in the rubbish. It's contaminated with your saliva." said John, acting like an expert.

"I suppose we should. I mean, what if you end up putting this cup in your mouth?" Sherlock responded. As he sipped the tea, he gave John a look.

It was lingering and full of suggestion.

John, however, didn't respond to it and proceeded to remove the thermometer from his friend's underarm, after sitting next to him.

"Wow. You appear to have quite a high fever." he said, looking a bit concerned. He felt Sherlock's forehead with his palm. As he did so, the two men's faces were only inches apart. Sherlock held his breath. It looked as if they were going to kiss...

"John, don't get too close. You don't want Coronavirus." he said, trying to avoid embarrassment.

"Weird. The thermometer says 38. 5 C but your forehead seems to tell me otherwise." John said in all seriousness.

"What? Impossibile, my deductions show that the two temperatures coincide." Sherlock responded, his eyes widened.

"Then I'm going to have to put you to bed." the older man said. He knew where Sherlock was going and he was going to play with it a little.

Sherlock was a genius, but even geniuses have flaws sometimes. He'd probably thought that John was too old to know the put-thermometer-on-lamp trick.

"Yes, John. Take me to bed!" Sherlock basically threw himself at John and together they stumbled to Sherlock's bed.

John was starting to think that what Sherlock had wasn't even a virus itself, moreover a way to get his attention. He didn't hate it, in all honesty. It felt nice to have moments like that, among fighting, screaming at each other and, sometimes, even ignoring each other for long.

However, that wouldn't stop him from having a bit of fun, either. Sherlock always thought he was invincible and that no one could find out what was on his mind, but John knew him like the back of his hand.

The younger man felt so happy as his friend tucked him under the covers, patted the pillow to make it fuller, and then got a wet cloth to place on his forehead.

He couldn't help but love all the attention he was receiving. It was nice to be cared for, once in a while. Sherlock loved doing things by himself and solving crimes on his own, sometimes, but the company of John Watson would always make everything better. He would never say it, but he just couldn't get enough of him. Every second spent without him was pure anguish and pain, and this, him caring for him, and go as far ad putting him to bed was truly a bliss to him.

"Now, you will stay in bed until Coronavirus leaves you. You get in quarantine. Then I will call an ambulance and get you to the hospital. Because I won't risk getting the virus myself, as much as I care for you." said John, trying to hide a smirk.

Sherlock's eyes widened as he said so.

" Wait, no... Don't take me to Hospital, I need you to stay here with me! I'm going to infect everyone at the hospital!"

"Not if they isolate you. Please, if I get sick it will be a big problem." John said, sighing. His acting skills were a bit rough, but he knew Sherlock would fall for it. After all, he was his weakness.

"You won't get sick." said Sherlock, tugging at John's sleeve. It was clear he didn't want him to leave him there. "You just have to stay one metre away from me."

"I will get sick. You said it yourself, you want to get isolated." John said, as if he was stating the obvious.

"But, I wanted to get isolated with you!" Sherlock almost shouted.

At those words, John blushed violently. He knew what Sherlock had planned, but he still found it a bit overwhelming.

"I'd rather I didn't join you on this. Sherlock, this isn't a joke!" he said. He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. There was something, in the air, that he wanted to ignore. But it was so palpable that even Rosie could have seen it.

"John, please, stay with me! It's not fun to be sick by yourself. You know I get bored easily. You don't want me to get a random gun and shoot somewhere, right?" Sherlock pleaded.

He was going to get through with what he had planned, and nothing would have stopped him.

"I'd rather you didn't devastate our house, thank you very much. But I can't, if I get sick I'll get everyone sick, for real. I'm a doctor and people need me and-"

"Not as much as I need you. I need you so much, John.." Sherlock basically murmured. The word John came out in a way that was almost... hot.

John sat still, didn't move a muscle as Sherlock sat up on the bed. The younger man removed the wet cloth from his forehead, and then slowly put it away.

His curls were a bit damp now, which made him look so much better and manlier and something happened at the pits of John's stomach.

"I don't think I have Coronavirus, actually. Oh, I think I have no sickness

at all. It's just acid reflux that made me cough a bit... I just wanted to get you to stay with me because you have no idea how much I've missed you..."

Sherlock's voice was throaty and his eyes were darkening. John swallowed a lump in his throat but couldn't get himself to move away from him. Sherlock was getting closer and closer to him and he found himself unable to breathe.

"You're always busy with work or Rosie and I had to find a way to get your attention." Sherlock confessed.

John, in a very hard way, snapped out of his trance and came back to reality.

"I knew it. But I'd already figured you out, Sherlock Holmes." he responded, rolling his eyes. "You're a fraud."

"But you did it anyway, you cared for me." Sherlock replied, after licking his lips and maintaining eye contact with John.

He knew what he was doing to him and he enjoyed it thoroughly.

"Of course I did, I wanted to tease you a little by playing along. You're the same old Sherlock, always manipulating people... But you've seemed to forget I can predict your every move, now." John gave his response, chuckling softly.

"Oh, no, this is where you're wrong, John. As a matter of fact, there is one thing you didn't predict..."

"What-?" John didn't even have the time to reply, to wonder what detail he'd missed that Sherlock was already locking his lips with his.

It felt weird at first, but it then became soft, sweet and just right. It didn't matter that Sherlock was a man, all that mattered was that he was kissing his soulmate, finally.

Sherlock was smiling in the kiss, feeling so content and proud of himself for finally doing it.

He'd been wanting to do it for so long, ever since he'd started developing feelings for John, but he'd never found the courage to go through with it. The kiss was amazing, just like he'd imagined, full of love and just... John.

John, who was surprised, didn't pull away, he lightly deepened the kiss and caught hold of Sherlock's soft curls with his fingers, slowly caressing his hair.

When they parted, after a good minute, they were both breathless.

"Wow." John said in a giggle. "That was unexpected."

"Yeah..." Sherlock found it hard to keep himself from smiling like a fourteen year old in love. "Only took the fear of an epidemic to get me to do it."

John rolled his eyes and shook his head. "The same old Sherlock. But tell me, how did you know I wouldn't pull you away abruptly?"

"Because you were basically eyefucking me, Watson. I'd say that it is elementary." Sherlock said like he'd just solved a case.

This time, John couldn't resist his cuteness and attacked his lips for a second kiss.

Coronavirus couldn't hurt them.


	2. Summer In April

Drabble Synopsis : **_There are 30 C° outside and John, Sherlock and Rosie go to the beach. The only problem is, it's the beginning of April. As a new case, the detective and his partner have to find ways to help the environment. Fluff ensues. _**

On that morning of the beginning of April - a Saturday morning - John woke up to his toddler jumping on his belly.  
He groaned at the "vicious attack" and knew that Sherlock was behind it.  
"Sherlock, how many times do I have to tell you, don't let Rosie join me on the bed before I'm fully awake! I could push her out of the bed without knowing!" He shouted at the other man, his eyes still half closed.  
"No need to shout, Watson. I'm right here." Sherlock chuckled as Rosie wrapped her tiny arms around her dad.  
"She's been awake for hours and we had fun making a lot of drawings, didn't we? She kept telling me to wake up daddy and I couldn't find a more heartwarming way to do that." he said.  
"My heart is definitely _compressed_ now." John said with a still sleepy voice. He giggled a little, though. Sherlock was right, for once. "Good morning, princess!" he then hugged his daughter back, keeping her as close to him as possible.  
"_Mowning_, da-dy. " said the little girl in between content giggles. For some reason, John kept feeling a slight tickle on his chest. Curious, he inspected his daughter small hand. Rosie was holding a crumpled up piece of paper._ Ah, that must be one of the drawings Sherlock mentioned,_ John thought.  
"What is it you have in your hand, princess?" He asked , in a voice you'd use to talk to a baby.  
"_Each!"_Rosie squealed excitedly as she unfolded the paper. She proudly showed her dad a picture of big, blue dots, accompanied by some random specks of yellow.  
John arched his brows in confusion. "Each?" he asked. He turned to Sherlock, who was having a hard time suppressing a laugh.  
"How can you not see this? "Asked the younger man, "It's clearly a landscape of a _beach. _There's the sea, the sand, she even drew seagulls, see?" He said, pointing at the almost abstract piece of art.  
"Ooh." John muttered in realisation, "I see now."  
"Each!" the little girl repeated, jumping away from her father and then running to Sherlock.  
"Why did she draw a beach?" John asked his partner, suspicious.  
"Do I always have to explain everything, John?" Sherlock huffed, picking up Rosie. "She clearly wants to go to the beach!"  
"The beach? But it's April! Did you show her videos of people going to the beach to make her want to go because _you _secretly want to go?" John sighed at the "typically Sherlock " situation.  
"Maybe." Said Sherlock, looking away from John.  
"Don't put weird ideas in her head." John scolded "As I said, we're in _April!"_  
Sherlock gave the other man a look. It was one of those looks that could only mean one thing: Sherlock had_ thought up something. _  
"Sherlock, why do I have the feeling that something is about to happen?" John asked, concerned.  
"My dear Watson, once again you proved yourself to be a clueless fool." Sherlock responded. "You failed to see that your bundle of joy is wearing a swimsuit." He nodded to the child in his arms.  
John gasped. Giving his daughter a second look confirmed his flatmate's words. Rosie was indeed wearing a bright pink one-piece.  
"And that I, myself, am wearing trunks" Sherlock continued, "And so are you."  
John's eyes widened in terror as he looked under the duvet to see that he was wearing said trunks.  
"How did you?" He was definitely confused.  
"Don't ask." Said Sherlock.  
"This is folly!" John exclaimed, while swiftly getting out of bed. "We are going to no beach!" He shouted, expressing his disapproval.  
Sherlock gave John the look once again. "You should have told me before I booked us a taxi to the station, train tickets to Brighton and a one-night stay in a hotel."  
"You did what?!"

* * *

It was about 12pm when the _happy family _finally got to a Brighton seaside. It was very hot outside, around 30 degrees. There were quite a few people there, basking in the strange and sudden British heat. The climate change was real, as United Kingdom rarely saw that weather in Summer, let alone in April.  
The beachgoers seemed to be happy about it, though.  
It was a private beach, specifically the Hotel's property, so the price included a full sized beach chair, a mini one for Rosie and a beach umbrella.  
As soon as Rosie's feet hit the sand, she began running around in utter happiness.  
"Wait! " John shouted after her "You need sunscreen." He chased her until he was able to catch her to remove her clothes and spread the product all over her, much to her annoyance.  
"Relax, John! Don't overwhelm her!" Sherlock shouted in the distance.  
He then proceeded to sit on the sand and lift himself up, so that he was standing on his head and arms, much like a gymnast would do.  
"Sherlock what are you...? I don't even know why I still get surprised. " John shook his head as he made his way to the beach chair, followed by his daughter, who rolled around the sand excitedly. Oh, to be a toddler and discovering sand for the first time.  
"I'm just doing an experiment. You see, Watson, climate is changing, there's no doubt in that. I want to see how dangerous it is for me to be exposed to these modified rays." Sherlock answered John's unanswered question.  
"I don't wanna know about it." John said as he comfortably sat on the chair. He had his sunglasses on and he was ready to sunbathe. "I just want to take advantage of this heat, since I was basically forced to come here."  
"Ugh, shut it. You are enjoying every second of it."said Sherlock, matter of factly.  
Rosie imitated Sherlock's position by attempting a clumsy version of it. She kept falling on her tummy, yet she didn't seem to mind too much.  
"No, Rosie!" John yelled in worry . "You're setting up a bad example for her!" He spat at Sherlock.  
"She won't hurt herself. It's not like she's banging her head on rocks repeatedly. On the contrary, she's proving herself to be very _dedicated _to environmental issues, like _her favourite _out of the two of us." Sherlock said defensively.  
John only rolled his eyes at that. Deep inside him, he knew Rosie's favourite could only be her biological father, so he chose to ignore Sherlock's provocation. He just sighed contentedly as he took in everything about the beach, the feeling of sand on his feet, the smell of saline water and the soothing sounds that the waves were producing. Sure, the sound that seagulls made wasn't as soothing, but he chose not too care too much. He was happy. Sure, that getaway Sherlock had organised had been a bit rushed and, somewhat , out of place. There was probably another reason than just for the sake of a little girl's whims.  
You could never be too careful with Sherlock around. Nonetheless, he still considered himself lucky to be there, in a relaxing spot, surrounded by the two most important people of his life.  
He closed his eyes and let himself be cuddled by the cool, soft sea breeze that he couldn't find in London.  
He could almost fall asleep there.  
"Ok, experiment over. Time to do what we're here to do." Sherlock got back to a sitting position, then he rose to his feet. He had to struggle quite a bit to get all the sand out of his hair.  
"I knew this was coming. What exactly are we here for?" John groaned.  
"To help the environment. The Hotel issued a contest, whoever wins gets free coupons for food. We have to free the beach from as much litter as we can." said Sherlock, a broad smile on his lips - one of those high functioning sociopath smiles.  
"Uh, makes sense." John observed.  
So, the three of them spent the next two hours bending down to collect pieces of rubbish, cigarette butts and other type of polluting hazard.  
Rosie seemed to have the time of her life.  
John, a little bit less. His age was starting to get to him, plus his military wounds had left their mark.

The detective had never looked more serious before. Who knew that messy, experiment making Sherlock cared so much about saving the planet.  
Greta Thumberg was right, the world was really dying.  
30 C° in April? Something unheard of before, almost sounded impossible to the average British person, but it was real, it was happening, and Sherlock and his gang were working hard to make a change, even if it was small.  
Plus, it was fun to do that together.  
Tired and spent, after hours of labour, Holmes and Watson had filled up two enormous bags with garbage.  
"At first glance, I'd say that we've won." said the black haired man, drying up sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.  
Looking around the beach, you could, indeed, see that the other participants didn't even have half of the amount of rubbish he and his" family" had picked up.  
"Uff." John panted, while massaging his own back "I'm too old for this. I sure hope our contribute helped make the world a better place." he finished his sentence while plopping back onto the beach chair.  
"Yes, I'm sure we did. We're also instructing Rosie the right way. She'll end up being an advocate for the environment, one day. She picked up the most trash!" Sherlock gave a triumphant smile.  
He walked towards John and then straight up sat on his lap, making the chair sink deeper into the sand.  
"Sherlock! You're going to throw us both three feet deep into the sand! " John reprimanded, but put a hand on the other man's thigh, anyway.  
"Do I look like I care? I am Sherlock Holmes, I work with _cadavers, _what can a bit of sand do to me?" Sherlock shrugged. "I came here to congratulate _my man _on the good job he made today, even though he hurt his back a little."  
"You put me through it!" John whined.  
"That's why you deserve a kiss. Come on, give me a kiss." Sherlock pleaded, moving his face closer to John's, so that their noses touched.  
The shorter man inadvertently blushed so much that his face turned crimson red. "Sherlock, we're in public!" he let out a shameful whisper.  
"Why do you care? People already know about us. Well, not officially, but everyone's suspecting it. And, besides, who knows us, here, in Brighton?" the curly haired man made his point. John, however, was still hesitating.  
"But what about Rosie?" he asked, eyeing her. "She's too young to see this."  
"She's seen us kiss many times. The worst that could happen is her throwing a tantrum for not being at the centre of attention. Come on, don't be shy, Watson. You went to war, for Christ's sake." the detective insisted.  
With a sigh of defeat, the war veteran nodded his head in approval.  
Happy to have won, Sherlock put his lips on his man's, giving him a loving kiss.  
John smiled into it. It was the first time they were showing any sort of PDA and it wasn't as bad as he'd imagined.  
"See? Nobody is bugging us. Homophobia is dying down." Sherlock breathed after breaking the kiss.  
"You always want to risk it, eh?" said John, shaking his head while grinning.  
"You too, or you wouldn't be my boyfriend." Sherlock said as he went in for another kiss.  
John hummed contentedly, but their bliss was suddenly shattered by a tiny girl who had quite violently jumped on her dad's lap in jealousy.  
"My daddy!" she screamed in a high pitched voice. She then slapped Sherlock's chest in order to move him away, so that she could hold her father by the neck, possessively.  
Sherlock and John looked at each other then burst out laughing. No one could touch Rosie's daddy, without her consent. She was going to grow into a tough one.

* * *

"I can't believe you manipulated a little girl into going to the beach just because you wanted a coupon." said John, the day after, as he shook a piece of paper in his hand that said "Breakfast For Three".  
It was 8 in the morning and the family had just woken up.  
After a beautiful night at the hotel, sitting by the pool and enjoying the breathtaking sunset, the three of them had gone to bed exhausted.  
"At least I got us free breakfast." Sherlock shrugged as he shifted in bed. "And it's room service so we're not obliged to socialise with random strangers."  
He was naked from the waist up, too hot to wear any undershirt.  
Plus, sleeping next to John's super warm body had made it impossible for him to keep his pyjama on.  
"Well, get some clothes on. You don't want the room service person to see you in this state." John ordered while rolling his eyes.  
"I will, don't be a nazi soldier." said Sherlock, obviously still tired from the night before. "You _killed me _last night. Give me time to recover." he murmured, looking sore.  
"Sherlock, Rosie!" John whispered in embarrassment. "Don't scandalise her!"  
"Eh, she's still sleeping. And even if she weren't, I doubt she could make two and two. At worst, she might assume you actually killed me or something. "  
Just in time, a knock came on the door.  
"Room service!" said a slightly familiar voice, but John didn't give it too much thought. As fast as lighting, Sherlock took his robe and put it on.  
John opened the door.  
The room service guy looked like someone he'd already seen, but he couldn't quite put his finger on where he'd seen him.  
He only had a big, silver plate in his hand containing sausages, fruits, teas and drinks.  
"Your breakfast as you asked. I just need the coupon... Thanks, mate. Now, together with your food, I leave you this insert,"the man took a pamphlet from his pocket and placed it on an empty spot, at the far left of the tray. "It's about ice caps melting in Antarctica. Something needs to be done to stop this environmental crisis."  
"Thanks, good man," said John, politely. "We'll do what we can. Sure, it's obvious we can't just randomly take a plane to Antarctica to go and save the icebergs."John said as he laughed wholeheartedly.  
Sherlock and the stranger looked at each other as if they _knew something. _That was not a good sign.  
As soon as he noticed the exchange of glances between the two men, John became dead serious.  
" Sherlock, don't tell me that -" he tried to say, but he was interrupted by the loud sound a helicopter engine.  
"We're taking a Helicopter to Antarctica." said Sherlock, acting innocent.  
"You're not really serious!" John shouted in shock.  
"Never been more serious in my life before. Come on, John, gather your things, we're going now!" his boyfriend said.  
"Are you out of your mind?! " John cried out, his hands in his hair.  
"Good luck." said the tray guy, revealing himself to be Inspector Lestrade with a mask on.  
A mission was in the air for the most famous crime solving couple and,  
never before that moment, John had wished he hadn't chosen such a reckless man as life partner.  
But he loved him anyway.


End file.
